


All the Information

by Westgate (Harkpad)



Series: Every Little Thing Is Gonna Be All Right [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Deaf Clint Barton, Drama, Multi, OT3, They all need hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 19:46:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7119952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harkpad/pseuds/Westgate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil and Laura are married and have Cooper, but Clint comes along and steals everyone's hearts. When he goes missing on a mission, he loses something terribly important, but they all gain new information that will make them all stronger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JHSC](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JHSC/gifts).



> JHSC asked for "Clint/Laura/Phil anything" on tumblr. I can't do short fics, apparently, so here's a multi-chapter one to keep me busy! I hope it satisfies!

The first time Laura met Clint, he passed out at the sight of her. She’d rolled her eyes, looked at Phil, and said, “You didn’t even tell him about me on the way over?” Granted, Clint was recovering from some sort of poison from the hands of bad guys (yeah, she calls all the classified crap that happens to Phil and Clint ‘bad guys’), so he wasn’t in the best shape to begin with. Once he woke up, though, and was properly introduced, it took her precisely three days before she looked at Phil and said, “Oh. Now I get it.”

Phil was in love with Clint and she knew it for a long time before she met Clint. Aside from being husband and lover, Phil was definitely her best friend, and best friends didn’t keep stuff like falling in love from each other. They talked and talked about it, and Phil promised he wouldn't do anything with Clint, but she knew it was hard. When she met him, she realized why.

It was hard to find the perfect word for Clint Barton, but she thought maybe ‘endearing’ was it. He was often charming, definitely good looking as hell, clearly kind, and always funny, but endearing seemed the best descriptor. He was also amazing with Cooper once he felt free enough of the poison to handle him, cuddling, changing diapers right away, constantly bouncing him around, and could get him to sleep like magic. Laura spent three days with him, looked at Phil as they lay in bed together, and said, “Well, you definitely win husband-of-the-years for staying away from him romantically. How did you do that?”

Phil laughed, leaned in for a kiss, and said, “Well, you’re pretty endearing, too. And you’re my favorite person, and you’re the most gorgeous human I’ve ever met, so.” He proceeded to take her apart and make her come three times to punctuate his assessment of her.

 When they woke the next morning, it was time to take Clint back to HQ, and she wrapped him in her arms. “You’re always welcome here. Announced, unannounced, doesn’t matter.”

Clint just smiled that charming half-smile of his and said, “Thanks. It’s been great.” His voice was tinged with sadness, and Laura didn’t know what to do with that.

From then on, though, Clint started appearing on their doorstep with some sort of food gift and a book or toy for Cooper, and became part of their family. A year later, she and Phil sat Clint down at their kitchen table and Phil said, “We want you as part of our relationship, as well as our family.”

It was the best decision either Laura or Phil had made since they said “I do” to each other.

Two years later, when Clint went missing for two months on a mission, Laura realized that she had a problem, though. Phil had been hurt before, and Laura knew from the beginning the chances were good she’d lose him to the job, but this was different. This changed everything.

Two days after they were scheduled to be home from the mission and Laura wasn’t worried. Exact timelines weren’t dependable in their job and she had been around Phil long enough to know that. She swallowed her worry, worked to finish her current client’s designs so that she’d have some time with her men when they did get home. She stocked the refrigerator with Phil’s favorite beer, Clint’s favorite homemade lasagna, and all the other foods they had deemed ‘must-have-when-we-get-home’ over the years.  Two more days passed. Finally, on the fifth day, Phil called.

  
“Laura,” he said, and that was all he managed. His voice sounded full and she felt her stomach drop.

“Phil? Are you okay?” she said, and sure, she was avoiding the obvious question because she could put off pain with the best of them.

“Yes,” he said, and she heard him swallow. “Clint’s missing.”

This was new. Phil had been hurt, Clint had been hurt, Clint had even been suspended for two weeks once, but missing? “How?” she whispered.

Phil blew out a shaky breath. “We lost him a week ago. He missed his check-ins and our intel on the group he’d been tagging dried up. Our contact was killed. We don’t –“ his voice cracked and Laura just wanted to pull him into her arms and hold him tightly. “We don’t know anything now.”

Laura remembered when she and Phil were first dating and she was working on an office design for a client. It was an initial draft and she’d only met the client once. She was waiting on them to send a full-info packet with all the spec forms filled out and itemized needs. Phil had leaned over her desk in her office and put his chin on her head. “I thought you only met them once?” he’d asked. “Why are you working on them already?”

She’d nodded and answered, “This is my first-impression draft. I know their business and I spoke to them for an hour. I do this and then adjust based on their specs.”

“Doesn’t that waste a lot of effort?” Phil had asked, “It seems like you’d have to change a lot if you haven’t even read their spec sheet. You don’t have all of the information.”

And that was always Phil’s ace-in-the-hole, in everything. He made sure he had all of the information. Now, she could hear it in his voice. He didn’t have the information he needed and Clint’s life was on the line. “Phil,” she said. “You’ll find him.”

He was quiet for a minute and she could hear him trying to get himself under control. “I’ll call again when I know something. Are you and Cooper okay?”

“We will be, Phil. Just find him and be careful.”

Phil couldn’t find him. Two days later Phil came home, and when he opened the front door, Laura barely recognized her own husband. His suit jacket was slung over his arm, his white dress shirt was unbuttoned, but only about half way, even his undershirt was untucked, and his shoes were loosened. She looked at his unshaven face and exhausted blue eyes and had to blink away tears. She pulled him in for a hug and he was stiff. He didn’t say anything, so Laura pulled back and rested her hand on his sallow cheek. “Phil?” She asked, and then swallowed and said, “Is he dead?”

Phil blinked, bit his lip and shrugged his shoulders. He was looking at the floor. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t know where he is or if he’s alive. They declared him MIA, which means the search goes down to a minimum. Can’t waste fucking resources,” he said, his voice rising.

Laura guided him to the couch, and pulled Cooper up from his pack-n-play and into her arms. She tried not to hold him too tight, but between Phil’s disheveled appearance and the anger in his voice, she was a little scared of this whole situation. “You’ll keep looking, though, right?”

He looked at her and finally saw her, then. He closed his eyes and nodded. “Fury made me come home to get some sleep. Mandatory two days and then I’ll start looking again.” He paused and leaned into her, pressing his forehead to her shoulder. “I don’t want to sleep. I just want to find him.”

It took two months. At the end of it, Phil had retreated so far into his own world that Laura was convinced she’d lost both men to this fiasco.  Phil was averaging two nights a week at home by then, and when he was home, he managed to spend a few hours with Cooper, get him through his bedtime routine, and then they’d both fall asleep in the rocking chair in Cooper’s bedroom.  She felt their world start to crack.

Clint had become a pillar, loved fiercely by all three Coulsons, and to lose him so soon was taking its toll on all of them. But then Phil called.

“We’ve got him back, Laura. He’s safe.”

Laura sat down heavily on the couch. “Is he healthy?” Because she’d had two months to think of all the horrors that Clint might’ve faced. The pause on the phone told her what she needed to hear. “He’s hurt,” she stated flatly.

“Laura,” Phil said, and she heard him trying to be gentle with her. “He’s malnourished and he must’ve broken his ankle when all of this started because it’s not healed properly. They’re going to have to re-break it.”

“What else?” She asked, because she knew Phil’s cadences better than any music she’d ever heard, and something was missing.

Phil sighed. “He’s been deafened,” he answered. “He’s not saying a word and he’s got 80 percent loss in one ear and 75 percent loss in the other. They’re saying it’s permanent.”

She swallowed the rush of loss and fear that washed through her body and nodded, even though Phil couldn’t see it. “Okay,” she whispered. “How long until he can come home?”

She needed Clint. She needed to wrap her arms around him, to pull him into their bed and let him grip her as hard as he could, needed to show him that she was here for him, that Phil was here and they’d never leave, no matter what they had to adjust to, all of them.

“Hopefully just a few days. They’ve got him sedated right now and they’re trying to get his electrolytes leveled out. We have to see what he can eat, and work out a plan for his ears and ankle. He’ll have to get cleared by Psych, too.”

She didn’t try and stop the tears streaming down her face, and Cooper reached up and wiped her wet cheek as she spoke. “That sounds like more than a few days.”

Phil was quiet for a moment. “I’ll be home tomorrow night, okay? At least for a few hours. Sit tight and I’ll try and gather as much information as I can about what we need to do to get him home.”

“Okay,” she said. “Keep him safe, Phil,” she said, and then the tears came full force. “He’s gonna be scared. Don’t let him be scared.”

“Laura, sweetheart, I won’t. I’ll stay with him. You know I’ll keep him safe. We’re all going to get through this, and I’ll be home tomorrow. I promise,” he said, and he’d slipped into that voice that she and Clint agreed was the most reassuring sound in the universe. It worked.

“Okay,” she said, swallowing and getting her breathing under control. “Okay. I love you.” They had him back and he would recover. She didn't know how, but she knew that between Phil and Laura and his own damned stubbornness, he would recover somehow.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Phil sits next to Clint’s bed working on a field assessment – not entirely mindless work, but close enough that he could call himself productive while his ear listens intently to the sounds of the room. He’s waiting to hear Clint wake up. He’s been out almost nine hours now, after they found him in the dirty, damp holding cell underneath an AIM research lab in northern Wisconsin.

He hadn’t even been cuffed when they found him, just wearing loose-fitting sleep pants and lying in a corner, too weak to move. Phil got to him first, and even though he’d called to him, there was no response. When he rolled Clint over to get a good look at him, he’d sucked a sharp breath in. He was so gaunt that Phil could see his cheek bones almost poking through his skin. There was blood dried down both sides of his neck, and Phil was horrified to realize it was coming from his ears.

His normally sharp greenish eyes were dull, and the only indication that he knew who Phil was came from the way he rolled into Phil and pressed his hand against Phil’s body. He didn’t even have the strength to find his hand or say a word.

They’d started him on an IV and flown him directly to Headquarters. When they woke him up to ask him a few questions, he’d stared blankly at the walls and hadn’t even tried to talk. When Phil leaned close, finally, and said, “Clint, can you hear me?” and pointed to his ears, Clint shook his head no and closed his eyes.

They got him to open them again, but he said nothing and indicated again that he couldn’t hear, and they finally decided to knock him out and let his body have a chance to rest. They ran a few scans while he was out, and now Phil waited for him to wake.

What he really wants is what Laura wants – Clint home with them where they could take care of him together.

He’s still asleep when Phil had promised he’d go home to see her, so he calls.

“He hasn’t woken since we brought him in, Laura,” he says. He tries to use his calming voice, but that’s hard when he’s in pretty desperate need of being calmed himself.

“Then stay there,” she replies. “You need to be there when he does wake.” She is matter-of-fact, determined the way she always is, and it disarms him.

“I want to come home,” he whispers. He feels tears prickle in his eyes and he blinks them away. “I’m tired and I miss you.”

“I know,” she answers, and he remembers her voice when he’d first told her about his feelings for Clint. He’d said he still loved her fiercely, and she’d replied, “I know,” then, too.

He takes a deep breath. “I’ll call you when he wakes. Do you have Cooper covered?” he adds, even though after three years she always had him covered.

“Yes, we’re fine. Just be there for him, Phil.”

“I will. I love you.” One of them always says it at the end of any phone conversation. Some might accuse them of making the words meaningless by saying them all the time, but Phil figured, and Laura did too, that they were just stocking up for when they couldn’t say it. They were fitting all the ‘I love yous’ of their life in while they could.

He closes the phone and steps closer to Clint’s bed.

His color is better, and the bruising under his eyes is fading a little, but Phil still has a hard time looking at him. He looks like a scarecrow in the hospital gown. They’d weighed him and he’d lost twenty pounds in the two months he was gone, and it shows in his face and on his arms. Phil leans over and brushes a strand of hair out of Clint’s eyes. It’s gotten shaggy in the two months, and was greasy and tangled when they found him yesterday. Now it’s wispy and falling in his face.

Clint opens his eyes and blinks at Phil. “Hey,” Phil says, and puts his hand on Clint’s cheek because he knows the words are probably lost. Clint just looks back at him, staring like he’s tired and dazed, but he doesn’t try and talk at all. He just watches Phil. Phil leans over and gives him a kiss, and swallows the dread pooling in his stomach over Clint’s subdued response. He reaches over and pushes the call button and then pulls Clint’s hand into his and waits, worries.

In the next twelve hours, a more formal hearing test is done, revealing sixty percent hearing loss in his left ear and forty percent in his right, and Fury manages to get Clint through a debriefing session with note cards and a pen.

**What did they seem to want from you**? _Bragging rights._ **How did they interrogate you?** _Standard BS our training preps us for. Beatings, water boarding, sleep deprivation, the works._     **What did they ask?** _Information about SHIELD, about locations._ **What happened to your ears?** (Clint shuts his eyes as Phil rubs his shoulder as he writes) _Pierced them. Some sort of rods. I don’t remember much about it_. His breathing speeds up, and the monitors register it.

The beeps seem like they’re mocking Phil. He took too long to find Clint. He’s grateful that Nick is conducting debrief because his mind keeps wandering back to that cell and the empty, exhausted look in Clint’s eyes. Now, thanks to Clint’s exhausted scrawl on the notecard, the words ‘pierced them. Some sort of rods,” keep floating into Phil’s mind. Pierced. With rods. Along with everything else. He looks down at the next card Fury gives Clint. **Why did they do that?** And Clint, biting his bottom lip and taking a shaky breath, answers, _because nothing else made me talk_. He pauses, and adds quickly, _glad they didn’t take my eyes._

Nick manages three more questions before Dr. Dillis stops him and says, in her Greek accent, “We need to let him rest. He’s had enough for now,” and Phil wants to reach out and hug her. Clint just watches them talk and then closes his eyes again.

A few hours later, they sedate him to deal with his ankle, so it’s another two days before Phil can even think about getting him home. The house is about forty-five minutes from headquarters, and on the drive over Phil catches Clint fingering the hearing aids behind his ears. He still hasn’t said a word.

“Dr. West said you need to come in tomorrow for another session,” Phil says.

Dr. West is Phil’s favorite therapist on the SHIELD psych staff, and they’d spoken briefly before Phil left. _Don’t push him to talk, don’t be surprised at panic attacks, and make sure he’s getting enough rest_ were the basics, along with a promise to get him back in for every-other-day sessions for a while. He’d told Phil that traumatic mutism would be best worked out through therapy, but also by keeping those that Clint trusted close by. Phil can manage that. Nick gives him a week of working from home, with the promise of more if they need it. Phil actually pulls Nick into a hug over that one. Nick returns it fiercely.

Clint still doesn’t reply, but he nods and keeps fiddling. He is silent as they drive back home. He rides with his eyes closed, as Phil babbles aimlessly about Cooper and Laura and Laura’s latest client and the house. Phil notices that Clint’s body gets more and more tense the closer they get.

  
When they pulls into the driveway for the house, Phil reaches over and runs his hand through Clint’s hair, and Clint blows out a deep breath and ducks his chin to his chest for a moment. Phil opens his door and Cooper is toddling carefully down the front steps and then barreling into Phil’s legs. He swoops his son high in the air and laughs as Cooper yells, “Daddy!” in his little Muppet voice. Phil pulls him close and breathes deep. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Clint thrust his crutches out of the car and pull himself up, before Laura wraps him carefully in a hug. Clint is stiff at first, but after a moment Phil sees him sag into Laura in a way he hadn’t let himself do with Phil yet, and relief washes through Phil’s limbs like a wave.

When Cooper realizes Clint is here, too, he pulls back from Phil, squeals, “Poppa!” and squirms to get out of his arms to get to Clint. Phil pulls him closer and says, “Just a minute, Coop,” and carries him over to where Clint has rounded the front of the car near the steps. No restraint will hold him, though, and Cooper throws himself at Clint in that sudden, forceful way toddlers can, and Clint drops his crutches to catch him and pull him into his arms.

Cooper throws his arms around Clint and grabs his t-shirt in the back, squeezing Clint and nuzzling into his neck. Phil watches as Clint shuts his eyes tightly and somehow manages to pull Cooper in even closer. Clint’s blond hair, tousled and too long for his taste, brushes against Cooper’s dark hair and Phil marvels again at how well they fit together, father and son.

Phil had begun to think of Clint as Cooper’s other father from nearly the beginning, and when it hit him that Clint Barton would get to raise a son, something in the universe clicked into its proper place. Phil’s universe had shaken again while Clint was gone, but today it seems like it is slotting back into place again.

“Poppa?” Cooper says, pulling back to look at Clint. He sounds a little quiet this time, as if he can sense something is off about the situation. Phil can see that Laura is holding her breath the same as he is as Clint reaches up and brushes a lock of Cooper’s dark hair out of his eyes with a deep smile. It doesn’t pull a sound from him, but he leans in and wraps Cooper in another tight hug as Cooper just babbles, “Poppa! Poppa! Poppa!” over and over.

Finally, Clint lets up on his hug and Cooper leans back again, this time doing something with his hands right in front of Clint’s face, with a big grin. It takes Phil and Clint a second to realize, but Phil bites his lip and Clint’s jaw drops as they both look over at Laura.

“We’ve only watched a few video lessons, but he’s getting it,” she replies with a shrug and one of her radiant smiles. “He just told you his name,” she adds.

Clint nods and leans in to plant a kiss on Cooper’s cheek. He gets a giggle for it, and everyone’s smiling when Phil reaches for Cooper so that Clint can get up the steps and into the house.

Clint isn’t talking, but somehow he manages to go even quieter as he settles in at home. He sleeps a lot. He comes downstairs to eat breakfast, lets Cooper show him his art (finger-painting is in right now), and they all practice sign language together for a bit before he shuffles upstairs and sleeps until Phil wakes him for their trip to the city for therapy. When they get home, he picks at dinner and goes straight to bed afterwards.

Four nights after they get him home, Phil finds Laura standing in the doorway watching Clint sleep. Clint still isn’t talking, and even though he does sleep a lot, his sleep is usually interrupted by nightmares and the occasional full-blown night terror. Laura watches him from the corner of her eye all the time. If he’s in the house, she checks on him and watches.

“Hey,” Phil says, stepping close and putting his chin on her shoulder. “Are you okay?” She sighs, and he shakes his head. “Sorry, I know you’re not okay.”

She turns and pulls him in for a vice-like hug and whispers, “He’s still scared.”

She’s right. When he has his hearing aids in, he flinches at almost any unexpected sound. When they’re out, it’s worse. He holds himself tight all the time, and one afternoon Cooper accidentally surprised him and Clint started so hard that he fell, scaring Cooper into tears and hitting his bad ankle on the corner of a step. Phil took Cooper outside to sit on the porch swing and calm down while Laura stayed with Clint and held him until he stopped trembling.

“He’s gonna be okay. He’s going to work through this,” Phil says, brushing his hand down Laura’s cheek.

She sighs and then leans up and presses a soft kiss to Phil’s lips. “I miss us,” she says, and they stay there, watching Clint sleep for a while.

Phil knows what she means. She means lazy Saturday nights after they put Cooper to bed and then pile onto each other in bed to watch a movie. She means later nights when the three of them find ways to make their bodies fit together and then shake each other apart. She means the occasional weekend that Cooper goes to visit his grandparents and Clint makes breakfast for all of them while Phil and Laura watch, and even though there’s plenty of room at the table they huddle together on the couch to eat, seeing how far into the day they can maintain contact with each other’s’ bodies.

“We’ll find each other again soon,” Phil says, and he finds that he truly means it.

In the end, it’s time, patience, and Cooper who bring Clint back from whatever ledge he’d found himself stumbling over. A week of nightmares, therapy sessions that leave Clint pliant and pale, and endless walks with Cooper thrown up on his shoulders and his hands stop shaking. He fixes pancakes for dinner, surprising everyone in the best possible way.

Another week and the nightmares slow down, the circles under his eyes start to fade, and more therapy leaves him wrung out. But this time he searches Phi out on the couch one night, and wordlessly curls up next to him. He reaches for Phil’s hand and laces their fingers together. Phil sighs and strokes his other hand through Clint’s hair until his breathing evens out and his hand goes slack in Phil’s. Phil stays on the couch for three hours until Clint comes awake gently, blows out a breath, and nods at Phil as if he’s just figured something out before he gets up and goes to take a shower.

The third week Phil has to go out on a three-day mission and he worries the whole time about what he’ll come home to. Laura sends him a picture two days in of Clint and Cooper stretched out on the living room floor working a puzzle together. When he gets back to base Nick informs him that Clint’s started coming in to work at the range for a few hours each day, and when he gets home, Cooper is asleep on Clint’s chest as they both sprawl on the couch. Laura rises and presses a kiss to Phil’s lips and then takes him upstairs.

“They just fell asleep a few minutes ago, and these past few days they’ve been napping on the couch together for an hour at least,” She says, and then proceeds to peel him out of his suit and pull him into the shower with her. Her hands on his body, along with the warm water, wring all of the tension of the op right out of him.

The fourth week, Clint finds his voice again. They’ve all been practicing sign language since he got home, but they’re new enough at it that Phil doesn’t really count Clint’s signing as engaging them in conversation. He answered basic questions with yes and no signs, like ‘Are you tired’ or ‘Are your new hearing aids working all right?’ Maybe one day they’ll all get good enough that they can do more than answer simple questions, but for now, he misses Clint’s voice. So when he pads quietly downstairs one morning and hears Clint talking to Cooper, he almost falls over.

“I was a little scared about talking for a while there, Coop,” Clint says. He’s sitting on the floor with Cooper and handing blocks to the toddler while he talks. “You ever get scared?”

Phil watches as Cooper nods solemnly at Clint. “Loud doggies are scary,” Cooper says as he carefully stacks a red block on top of a blue one.

“Yeah,” Clint answers as he holds out a yellow block, “Doggies can be scary. Loud men are scary too.”

“Except Uncle Nick,” Cooper says seriously. “He’s loud, but he’s not scary at all.”

Clint laughs at that, and it’s the most beautiful sound Phil has heard in months, so he sucks in a deep breath, climbs down the rest of the stairs, and says, “Sometimes Uncle Nick is scary. Right Clint?”

Clint opens his mouth, hesitates, and then answers, “Yeah. Sometimes he’s pretty scary.”

Clint follows Phil with his eyes as Phil comes into the room and sits down next to them. Phil picks up a green block and offers it to Clint, who takes it and gives it to Cooper.

“Bumblebees are scary,” Cooper says to Phil, who nods and agrees.

“Yep. Although they don’t mean to be,” he says, and Clint sucks in a sharp breath.

“I wasn’t scared of you,” Clint says softly, and leans into Phil’s shoulder. “Just didn’t know how to say something without the fear swallowing me whole.”

Phil hands Clint another block. “Okay,” he says. “It’s okay,” he replies.  

That seems to be enough for now, so other than talking to Cooper about bumblebees and a couple of books he’s been looking at, Phil is content to listen to Clint talk to Cooper.

Finally, Clint stands up, looks down at both of them, and says, “I’m gonna go get Laura up.” He offers Phil a small smile. “Figure I should say good morning.”

Phil feels something unclench in his chest as he nods and watches Clint climb the stairs to their bedroom. In a while Clint and Laura come back down with their arms slung around each other’s waists and smiles on their faces, breakfast tastes better today, and Phil swears the sun outside the house is a little bit brighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologize that this took so long to complete. RL got in the way big time. And writer's block. Ugh. Thanks to everyone who ends up reading this, though, as I know it's a rare pairing for sure. Thanks to JHSC for giving me motivation.


End file.
